Rush
by bombastic-banter
Summary: An anthology of unrelated but related TroyGabriella drabbles. eleven: It's just another school day for the ever ordinary Gabriella Montez.
1. Infatuated

**Finals are over**, school's out and the entire East High gang could be found in the Montez's basement for a night of fun and letting loose. Popcorn, red cups and candy litter the table, and the scent of alcohol hangs distinctly in the air. The entire crew crowds around the television, grinning and smiling over nothing and _everything_.

She's giggling at something Taylor had said and he stares longingly at her, beneath those dark, long eyelashes of his. She feels his gaze on her and turns to look at him, eyes bright and playful. He smirks and then turns his attention back to the television screen where Chad and Zeke play an intense game of Wii bowling.

Her chestnut eyes roam over his familiar gorgeous features- the ones that make her heart leap and flutter madly and the very same ones that have landed her multiple detentions for getting her "distracted" -she decidedly cannot help these feelings, and _god, did she try to shake them_, but they've been there, steadily growing day by day; ever since that fateful New Year's Eve - oh, was it the start of something new.

And so the brunette sighs and stares down at her hands at the memory.

He laughs uproariously at Zeke's crazy swing between his legs, and she sneaks a glance at him. He catches her wondering eyes- he _always _does- and winks. She bites her cheek, trying to suppress a smile, and settles for staring at the ceiling, instead.

They've been playing this game ever since that stupid "triple-victory day". Hands intertwined, fleeting hugs and flirty teasing pass through them. Sparks and astonishment and _affection_ leave her wanting more. She thinks he wants it too, but for once in her life, she's not entirely sure.

Confusion, confusion, confusion. He's still _such_ a flirt with the rest of the East High female population. He still gives hugs-- hugs that belong to _her -_-to that other cheerleader or that girl on the student council. Sometimes, she sees him playfully nudge the girl on the volleyball team and still does this 'secret handshake' with the dancer girl.

She knows she shouldn't be jealous of them, but she is. She knows she shouldn't feel that way because he is hers, always has been and _always_ will be. But it still didn't stop that annoying, nagging feeling she felt, as if something was missing from their relationship.

She looks at him one last time and wonders how he would react if she just grabbed his shirt collar and pressed her lips fervently against his – _come on,_ this was the boy who gave her the guts to sing in front of the world and then try out for the spring musical; this was the boy who saw her for the person she truly was; the boy with the dizzy blue eyes and who despised spiders and could not stand still for even a _second_ -- this was the boy who stole her heart and never gave it back.

She shakes those thoughts out of the way, letting those fantasies to be just that -- _fantasies_. She cannot risk their friendship, she tells herself, she cannot risk their friendship. Cliché, she knows, but she needs him in her life. _Always, and always_. And even though she really did feel that he _liked_ her, maybe even love her, in_ that_ way, she would wait until he figured it out himself.

She can't wait around forever, though. And that's what kills her the most.

Then she feels someone- a very heavy someone, at that -sprawled across her lap. Troy's familiar shaggy hair obscures her vision and she immediately wraps her arms around his stomach.

He presses himself closer to her, and while she relishes this physical intimacy, his weight is unbearable for her tiny frame. "I can't feel my legs, Troy," she says muffled, for her head is buried in his back. He groans and opts for a position seated right next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she comfortably positions herself in the crook of his arm.

She cuddles closer and he takes in her intoxicating perfume and he silently berates himself for being _so fucking affected_ by her presence. He can almost hear Chad's smirk and see him mouthing the word _"whipped." _

They stay like that for a moment; no words are spoken but it's not awkward at all; and it's _so_ predictable and corny, but they fit together perfectly and it feels so _right_ and this tingly feeling right now: _this_ is what love is, and they both know it but are too damn headstrong to admit it.

Troy then realizes it's his turn in bowling, probably by the way the rest of the gang turns to look at him, all sharing an amused glance because they realize what/who exactly has taken his time. He snags the controller from the coffee table, and awkwardly attempts to play while still sitting down on the couch. Gabriella realizes his predicament and laughs, her warm breath tickling his neck. "Just get up, you lazy bum," she chides.

"I'm fine, Gabriella," he answers and brings her closer to him. He uses his left arm to swing the controller and of course he doesn't hit any of the pins, so the rest of the boys laugh and point and jeer at their basketball captain, "Your head is not the game, man!"

But he merely rolls his cobalt eyes because he's in _bliss_ because he's with _her_.

* * *

Fin.


	2. Immature

2

**6:00AM.** No one is ready for the day at this absolutely ungodly hour, and everyone is in soporific moods, drifting in and out of sleep. They were all piled onto a single coach bus, since they were driving to San Francisco for their junior class field trip. Drooping eyelids, sleeping on armrests and iPods are all set to a "Zzzzzzz" play list. The sky is still dark, and there's still a bit of rain pitter pattering on the roof of the bus.

The rambunctious East High basketball boys, however, find themselves a little bit giggly and hyper andinsane because they've had one too many Red Bulls this morning. Troy sits in the back-most seat, and moans and groans and whimpers of pain are flowing from his mouth.

The brunette sitting a couple of rows in front of the team thinks she hears _his_ voice, carefully popping out her white earphones to clarify her suspicion. It _was_ Troy, and her heart starts to speed up, palms getting a little bit sweaty. With eyebrows knit together in confusion, she turns around to see if he got seriously hurt and starts to stand up to see how she could help.

But wait. She pauses midway and finds that his legs are spread wide open and that he's_ pretending to give birth_, with Jason right there, delivering his "baby" – which is really a bag of chips. He's "crying" now, and Chad looks like his right hand is going to fall off because Troy is holding onto it for dear life.

_What. An. Idiot_. She sighs, trying to calm herself and suppress the anger that was threatening to boil over. To think that he could have gotten seriously hurt. She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths. _1. 2. 3._ She wonders why she cares about him _at all_, and begins to listen to her music, staring absentmindedly out the frosty window, once again.

The bag/baby has now split apart, chips are everywhere and they're going to smell like sour cream and onion for the rest of the day. The basketball captain is rolling on the floor with silent laughter, with the rest of the team clutching at their sides and laughing hysterically. Troy accidentally knocks his hand on the arm-rest, causing him to burst out in pain, thus sending fresh giggles through the team.

She can still hear their laughter through the music, and refuses to be amused at _his_ childish antics. A grin is tugging at her lips as she looks back to see Troy pouting and sucking on his whole hand, but she stays stolid and admonishes herself, again, for ever liking him in the first place. He was not cute. Not cute at all. Just immature.

_Oh dear Lord. _The boys had just moved on from the baby and were now rummaging through Sharpay's cosmetic bag. She rubs her eyes and decides that she didn't even want to know what they were planning on doing with it.

_Gabriella girl,_ he suddenly calls her name,_ I_ _have something important to tell you_ -- breaking her out of her reverie, and she spins around slowly, silently bracing herself for whatever could come her way next. Were they going to attack her with lipstick? Did they pack water balloons? Silly string? Whipped cream?

He is stumbling and grinning and crossing over everyone's feet to get to her seat, and lowers his face so they were at eye level.

"You look really pretty, today," he says simply and without hesitation. She's taken aback at his straightforwardness, and her lips curve upward in a smile. His eyes darken with lust, her cheeks start to flush and she gets tingly and giddy and then she remembers _exactly_ why she loves him.

* * *

Fin. 


	3. Always inbetween

3

**James.** He was everything and anything a girl could want. Devilishly handsome, charismatic and funny. Treasurer of the Academic Decathlon. Captain of the boys' tennis team. He transferred to East High from England. He cursed using "bloody" and had a _fucking British accent._

Girls went crazy for him, but he was _crazy_ about Gabriella.

So when he went to her locker one day after school with a bouquet of red roses, asking her to go out with him, _of course_ she kissed his cheek and said yes. (Even if her heart was screaming at her to say no.)

They were at his house, watching the old _Romeo + Juliet_ for their Shakespeare project in AP English. Piles of loose-leaf and discarded bottles of soda covered the floor, as they both sat Indian-style in front of the coffee table.

She sighs wistfully, chestnut eyes clouded with lust as she stares at the screen. "I'm in _love_ with Leonard," she exclaims, talking about the very attractive male lead in the movie. "He is absolutely gorgeous, don't you think?" She cocks her head to the side, lips turned upward in a smile, a happy expression plastered onto her face.

He rolls his eyes. _Girls._ "Yes, of course. He's sooooo lovely and I want to shag him all night and --" He's cut off because she chucks a throw pillow at his head, effectively shutting him up. They share a laugh and she promises not to talk about him again and they turn their attention back to the old movie.

After a few moments, Gabriella breaks the silence. "Have you ever noticed how much Leonard looks like Troy?" she asks thoughtfully, eyes still glued to the screen.

He raises his eyebrow. "I guess. I haven't really thought about it."

"But he does," she insists.

He shrugs. "So does that mean you're in love with him, too?" He challenges her with his piercing hazel eyes.

She looks surprised at the sudden interrogation. Her eyes are unreadable and she drops her gaze after a few seconds, pretending to look down at her messy notes. Her answer is left unsaid but the moment becomes heavy because they both know the truth.

Gabriella may be his girlfriend, but she will _always_ be Troy's - and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

* * *


	4. Dizzying

4

She's listening to the Beach Boys, head hunched over her desk, carefully painting her nails Barbie pink. It gets a little sloppy because she is now using her left hand to paint her right one, and the addicting smell is making her dizzy.

Troy suddenly barges into the room, unannounced, closing the door with a loud slam.

"I have _amazing_ news, Gabriella-Bear!" he states excitedly, bounding across the room to bounce on her bed.

She looks at the boy, unfazed, and continues to paint her nails. "Thanks for knocking," she exclaims dryly. "I could have been naked or something, you know," she points the brush at him for emphasis.

"And that would have been a bad thing because...?"

"Troy!" She feels her face grow hot.

He rolls his eyes playfully and jumps off the bed. "Well, on the other hand, you could have been abducted by cows, taken for hostage, and then tied up and gagged so that you wouldn't have been able to answer my knock. And I'd be the hero for coming in and rescuing you, huh?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "What a story to tell the kids."

She blinks. "Are you high?"

He ignores her comment and continues on with his news.

"I've been nominated for the National Leadership Conference," he grins. "You know, the thing that my dad had been _pounding_ on me this whole year to go to. And they said I was student nominated by none other than the lovely Gabriella Montez," he states, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. The nail polish gets messed up, but it doesn't matter anymore because _he's there_ and she can't get over the way he's looking at her. "You didn't have to do it, but _thank you so fucking much_, Montez. It means the world to me."

"Oh, Bolton. You deserve it." She looks up at him shyly, before continuing. "And I would do anything for you, remember that," she adds softly. "You're my best friend."

He comes closer to her and peers at her through his long eyelashes. "_Anything_, you say?" She nods and he takes this as an opportunity to come face to face with her. Her heart is racing and his palms are sweaty, and their faces are both flushed and warm. She gets lost in his eyes and she's never looked more beautiful in his. Later they wouldn't be able to tell who leaned in first, but their lips met halfway and that's_ all that matters_.

They pull back and once again she's dizzy, but this time, it's not from the nail polish.

* * *

Fin.


	5. Admiration

He tells her she is just like the rain.

She throws her head back and laughs, "Why?"

Embarrassed, he grins and looks down, putting his hands into his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He still doesn't answer and she pokes at his stomach. "It's stupid," he says and tries to let it go. But she threatens to tell his father about how he skived off second period practice to help Darbus paint the sets for the spring musical, and he narrows his eyes at her. _Damn, she was good._

She smirks, knowing she had him cornered, and he takes a step closer to her, placing his hands on her hips. He takes a deep breath and looks down into her eyes. "Well, you're crazy and unpredictable, but I just feel so relaxed and free and _wonderful_ when I'm with you."

She takes another step forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, closing the few inches that stood between them. He buries his face into her hair, and she can actually _feel_ him smiling. His hot breath tickles her ear, and he whispers something that leaves her grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day.

"I love the rain."

* * *

Fin.

I meant to get this out sooner, but my computer was on the fritz and ffnet hates me. I'm not sure where I'll go from here because I want to leave them happy, but I don't want to overstep my limits with this rating. I may update some more, I may not. But I'm working on a full-length Troyella story, and I'm going to get it up as soon as I can.

Thanks for every single review and everyone who put me or this collection on their favorites list. This is a brand-new account because I wanted to start fresh this summer, and this isn't my normal fandom, but hopefully I'll get my loyal readers back once I start writing more. It means so much that _anyone_ appreciates my new writing. :)


	6. Garbage disposal

"What'cha eating?"

She looks at the dip she's been dipping pita chips into. "Hummus, I think."

"Hummus?"

"Yes."

"What's hummus?"

"Chickpeas mashed up."

"What are chickpeas?"

She rolls her eyes, exasperated. "Vegetables, Troy."

"Oh."

She takes the bag off of the counter and offers him some chips. "Would you like to try some?"

He stares at her, glances at the hummus dip, and then turns his attention back to her expectant face. "Sure," he says, making a big deal of finding the biggest pita chip, dipping it into the hummus, sniffing it and chewing it, thoughtfully.

She raises her eyebrows, seemingly unfazed by his dramatics. "Are you quite finished? Do you like it?" She asks after he swallows, taking the bag of pita chips back from his hands.

He thinks for a moment. "Yes," he replies slowly, as if he had never said the word before.

She blinks, expecting a bigger reaction. "Okay, then."

He pauses and grins widely at her, before shoving more pita chips and hummus down his throat. "Mmmm, it's delicious," he says through a full mouth, sounding more like _mmmitchaawishous_. He swallows. "How did I ever live without hummus before? I love hummus. Yummy hummus. Mmmm mmmm good."

She shakes her head, amusedly. _There's_ the Troy she knew.

"Can you dip other things in it?" He doesn't wait for her reply as he begins to rummage through the pantry.

"Yeah, I guess. Other vegetables or chips would probably go –" she stops, looking over at what he brought back to the kitchen table. "No, Troy. That's _disgusting._"

"But it would be my two favorite foods, together, in one beautiful explosion of flavors. It'd be a party in my mouth-- think about it, Gabriella."

"No." She tries to take away the plate.

"Come on, brownies and hummus? Sounds like a match made in heaven, to me," he says with a sing-song voice.

"False, Bolton. Hand that over. You'd be wasting food." She grapples the plate out of his hands, and he pouts.

"Fine."

She smiles triumphantly at him, only turning around for a napkin when he surreptitiously snatched one brownie from the plate, dipping it quickly into the hummus and shoving it into his mouth. She turns and sees him chewing it, narrowing her eyes at him. "You're a human garbage disposal, you know that?" She stares at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes, half-disgusted and half-amused.

"Proud of it, babe." He winks.

She sighs dramatically and gets up from the table, taking the pita chips with her. "If you're going to keep eating that, I'm going to watch some television before I puke or something. I hope you get poisoned." She adds saucily, before waltzing off.

"Thanks, I love you, too!" She hears him call after her, laughing.

She feels a blush rise to her cheeks at his playful words, faintly hoping in the back of her mind that he really meant it.

Walking toward the kitchen, she glances back at the brown-haired, blue-eyed boy leaning back on his chair, eyes closed in bliss and a slight upward curvature on his lips. She silently scolds herself for the same tiny smile was forming on her own lips.

Distracted, she can only watch Friends for five minutes before being drawn back into the kitchen to be with _him._

* * *

_AN; I didn't really think that one had a point, but there it is. I've decided that I am going to continue this series, but if you weren't aware, my new full length story "Through the Grapevine" is finally up, so I'd be stoked and overjoyed if you could read and/or review it, so I can get more feedback. ) _


	7. Across the country

_Baby why don't you just stay?_

_(I'll sing__ you songs in bed all day._)

-Archie Star

* * *

**She** looks out of the frosty window; over at the brick buildings of the New England campus, where snowflakes were steadily falling, falling. 

_What_ _d__reary__ weather._

_---- _

Summer was always _his_ favorite season. Something about the smell of the freshly cut grass early in the morning. Their late-night swims in the neighbor's pool when it turned too hot and sticky to sleep. He was always trying to touch the sound of the ice-cream truck. Always chasing _something_.

They were together in the summer. Their laughs perfectly aligned.

----

She sighs at the memories.

_Wistful._

She could never stand the fall; sweatshirts and Christmas.

She needs short skirts and his kisses.

* * *

_AN: Kind of broken, but I really liked that one. Not a real 100 word drabble, but 109 is pretty close. Love to Archie Star. And a super shout out to Of Laughter and Life, idolized, and Sam for being really sweet reviewers. You guys make my day. :)_

_---- _


	8. Moving Along

He's lying on his back, repeatedly throwing the basketball up before it falls back down to earth into his outstretched hands.

A boy with the messiest curly hair, kicks him lightly in his side, breaking him out of his reverie.

"Hey. What's up, dude? You and the elevated IQ temptress girl get into another fight?" He teases with a smirk, spinning the basketball on his finger.

Troy rolls onto his stomach, grinning to himself. "Yeah."

Chad looks over, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. "And you're okay with this?"

"Well, we made up." The blue-eyed boy closes his eyes, a small smile still evident on his lips.

A sly grin takes over Chad's features, recognition drawing on his face. "Good for you, man. You shouldn't let her go - she's an awesome chick."

"_Flexible_, too." Chad drops his basketball.

* * *

Fin. 


	9. Desperation

_I swore I knew the melody that I heard you singing. _

Hands are awkwardly fumbling across their bodies, her bra strap had seemingly come undone, and somehow, his shirt had been lost along the way. He runs a hand through her blonde hair; their breaths are ragged and shaky. His intoxicated breath lingers on her neck, and he gasps for air; _inhale and exhale._

Suddenly his grip tightens on her, as thoughts of _her_ _and James_ popped into his head. It literally took all of his willpower not to strangle James's scrawny British neck when he first saw Gabriella's tiny hand enclosed in his-- but he composed himself, plastering a grin on his face, as always. They did seem happy, but he could have sworn that Gabriella never,_ ever_ looked at James the way she looked at him.

He hopelessly tried to break free of the feeling that he'd lost her, because as much as he liked to think that he was the Romeo to her Juliet, she was never _really_ his to begin with. It became apparent that serenading a girl with a sappy, romantic song on her balcony evidently only worked in the 16th century.

He inwardly sighs. Even though it was clear to him that he alone held Gabriella's affections, Troy became acutely aware that maybe she wouldn't be _his_ freaky math girl, forever.

He hesitates and looks down at the tiny girl trapped beneath his arms. He then curses himself for being so pathetic; Gabriella seemed to occupy his thoughts 24/7, even though it seemed that the feeling was not entirely mutual.

"Are you okay?" Her light brown eyes bore into his, concerned.

"I'm fine, Sharpay," he says, defeated, closing his eyes, trying to feel something; _anything. _He tried so hard to pretend that it was Gabriella and it was love and it was_ real._

But it wasn't real, it wasn't love and he wasn't okay. It never was.

* * *

Fin. 

---

---

I'm so sorry for not updating this or Through the Grapevine in awhile; have I mentioned JUNIOR YEAR SUCKS? Thank you so very much for each and every review/alert/add – it's good to know there are readers out there, somewhere. When There Was Me and You at the top; and I think I just needed to mix it up with a little Troypay, sorry. XD

As a response to LizzieRokasGermain question about chapter seven: **"**_Is she at boarding school or something?"_ You can really interpret it anyway you want, but I was thinking more of college; one of the ever "prestigious" Ivies up here in the northeast, while Troy is back west. Something like that.

And to Of Laughter and Life: _"Do you know how many you'll plan on doing?_**" **No, I honestly haven't a clue. Drabbles are just easier to write, and I think they blow off some steam and plot bunnies that roll around in my head. I'll probably stop somewhere along the line, but as of now, I can't put an exact number.

Reviews are really good and appreciated. :)


	10. Sunburned

Troy Bolton secretly wishes that he could paint Gabriella Montez in neon colors because he thinks that she deserves to shine _so much brighter._

She has long, ferocious dark hair that never went the way she wanted it to, but fell perfectly, anyway.

She is arguably more intelligent than any of his teachers at school, but she can't even say the word Albuquerque properly. He teases her constantly, but he secretly finds the way she inflects her q's and r's terribly endearing. The word rolls around on her tongue, eventually drowning on her lips, and he can't help but wonder what her love would taste like.

They are sitting at his kitchen counter, bored on a balmy night in July. The night was slowly engulfing them and he is eating a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. She closes her eyes for a second and he throws a piece of cereal at her, accidentally throwing it down her dress – and he tries not to laugh but his voice cracks as he says that, "it shouldn't have been cut that low, anyways."

She cracks one eye open, seeing him stare innocently back at her. She can't help but giggle at his boyish expression and her laugh bounces across the room, tucking itself into the corners of the wall and crevices of his heart -- it's beating erratically faster faster faster and the electricity in the room is almost unbearable. He gets that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wonders if it's normal for a hormonal seventeen-year-old boy to feel so strongly about one girl.

But one shared look between them is all it takes. There is no doubt about it; she is his raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.

She can be shy and insecure and shrugs off a compliment with a blush when given. Despite how much she knows about the chemical makeup of a Nitrogen atom, underneath, she is just simple, sweet and innocently naive. She believes in happily ever after and refuses to get her driver's license because she is trying to save the environment.

But better than her sugar side, was the spice. She is feisty and romantic and has a sharp tongue that made him go insane. She's such a tease and she doesn't even have to try, but he has never wanted someone so much ever, in his whole entire life.

So when she takes the Cinnamon Toast Crunch piece out of her top, pushes her chair back and declares that, "we need to go on an adventure," of course he follows her lead.

Taking her hand in his, he decides that maybe, just this once, she'll take the reins and show him the world.

* * *

They get bored of playing Frisbee and exploring the back woods and trying to find frogs and climbing trees and ultimately find themselves in a staring contest in the shadows of his backyard.

But before she knew it, he pins her against the dusty shed, hands pulling her as close as possible. He showers her with a rainstorm of kisses, on her nose, on her lips, on her neck, on her shoulders. She giggles and he buries his head into her neck, dropping a kiss below her earlobe. The gentle wind brushes her hair and the night is sweet, but she smells sweeter -- of passion fruit, patchouli and strawberries.

He steals one glance at her bright eyes, swollen lips and the wrinkled yellow dress hiked up around her hips and suddenly Troy Bolton remembers exactly why it's his favorite season.

Because Gabriella Montez is his summer breezes, fireflies and midnight skies.

* * *

Fin.

Reviews make my allergies more tolerable. :)


	11. Extracurriculars

**9:01AM - Period 2: Gym**

She watches him skillfully shoot the basketball in the net, his hair falling into his bright eyes before he flips his head to move it away.

A soccer ball is suddenly at her side, and she hears choruses of "Gabriella, over here!" before she dribbles the ball down the court.

Exhilaration and excitement; electricity electricity electricity running through her veins as she runs down towards the goal, nimble feet leaving everyone else in the dust. Troy Bolton may be the resident freaky basketball boy, but if it were up to her, she'd be the resident freaky soccer girl.

So she surreptitiously glances to the other side of the gym to see if he was looking.

And he was.

The sky and the ground met somewhere in between and the usual endorphins from the adrenaline rush of her soccer goal paled in comparison to the way her stomach hurt and butterflies butterflies butterflies just from the wink he gives her.

**10:28AM - Period 4: English **

Instead of doing the reading assignment, Chad scribbles a note in black Sharpie on the back of last night's homework, next to her.

"Looking good, T-bear!" it says, and he holds it up for the rest of the class to see when their teacher was turned around.

Everyone snickers, and Troy merely rolls his eyes at them, playfully shoving Chad in the shoulder before slinking down into his desk and peering at his notes through his shaggy hair.

She knows he's embarrassed by the light pink tint evident on his cheeks, so she can't help but giggle.

And agree with Chad.

**11:47AM - Between Periods 5 and 6: on the way to Marketing**

She passes him on the stairwell, but she's not sure he noticed because he was looking the other way, speaking to someone else.

But his voice is unmistakable, and so obnoxious that it effortlessly drifts across the crowd and into her ears.

"Rachel, how do you spell iCup?" He asks noisily; she can hear the smile in his voice- it's sparkling with life and she wonders what the boy is up to now.

"What's an iCup? Is that like iPod?" She retorts back and he laughs loudly, their voices fading away in the corridor.

She's out of hearing distance, (confused about the conversation) but she comes to a conclusion that Troy Bolton has the most delicious laugh she has ever heard and she's sure it would taste like sunshine, and she would like very much to capture it and put it in a jar so she could hold on to it, forever and ever and ever.

**12:10PM - Period 6: Marketing**

iCup.

How do you spell iCup?

_I-C-U-P._

I see you pee.

It hits her suddenly and as childish as it was, her nose flares and she can't help but burst out laughing.

The rest of the class turns to look at her, and she exclaims a meek, "Sorry," and tries to think of something serious to muffle her giggles.

She stares out the window, the storm of laughter finally subsided, but still she smiles and finds herself in a good mood.

He was just so cute sometimes.

A deep buzz from inside her purse interrupts her thoughts, and she rummages through her things before locating her cellphone. She checks to see if the teacher was looking, and she places her phone under the desk so she can properly read it.

New Text Message: Troy Bolton (512-1609)

I took the long way to Bio class to see if I could catch you in the hallway but I didn't see you so I guess I'll just have to make up for it with dinner tonight? Just you and me? Please don't break my heart. :P

Her grin gets bigger (as if that was possible) as she re-reads the message and tries to think of something incredibly witty to say back to him.

Okay, so maybe he was cute _all the time._


End file.
